Between Two Brothers
by EnglishGrlVerity
Summary: A two-shot about Regulus and Sirius. Sirius looked at the lake, "I don't want you to die Reg." "Maybe if you had stayed, Sirius, things could have been different, maybe if you stayed,I would have been different." Please read and Review! :
1. It began at Hogwarts

Hey! OK, so here is just a little something that is taken from a much longer story about L+J. This is a tidbit of Sirius and Regulus, first set in Hogwarts days and the second chapter will be set after the war. I guess you'll see. This is dedicated to PinkPearl89. Anyway I hope you like it. Please excuse any misspellings. Read and Review!! : )

* * *

Spring days at Hogwarts were filled with classes and lectures, giving the seventh year students little time to really socialize. Sirius Black sat under a large ash tree near the lake, enjoying the unusually dry weather. He was reading his Transfiguration text book while the wind played idly with stray strands of his long black hair.

"Sirius?"

Sirius looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. He was met by the same grey eyes as his own, a seemingly dominate trait in his family. The boy standing in front of him pushed his own black hair out of his face.

"Can we talk?"

Sirius gestured for his younger brother to sit down beside him. Regulus took the invitation.

"What's wrong?" Sirius immediately began thinking something had to be wrong for Regulus to openly address him like this. No matter what, they were still brothers.

"You know," Regulus began, "I've always sort of admired you. You are, after all, my big brother. But it's more than that. It's because of the way you went against our family. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Sirius sat a bit straighter as his brother fidgeted next to him, "No, not really."

"There are just certain things that I believe, things that were instilled in me, in you, since birth. It's just that I've decided to follow them and you didn't."

"What do you mean Reg? What are you going to do?"

Regulus smiled forlornly at his brother, "Back to old nicknames, are we Sirius? Maybe if things had been different, maybe if you would have stayed, I would have been different too."

Becoming indignant, Sirius almost spat, "Don't blame anything on me Reg. I had to leave that house and you know that!"

"I needed your protection Sirius. I needed my brother."

"I needed my own protection. I'm sorry, Reg, I really am, I didn't know you felt that way, but I had to leave."

"I know. And I didn't come here for apologies." Regulus stayed silent for a moment and then said, "Mother has decided that I am to join the death eaters on my seventeenth birthday."

Sirius inhaled sharply, "Oh, Reg….You cant."

"I have to." Regulus stated almost as if it was resignation that forced him to that conclusion, as if he wanted Sirius to understand that. "I'm not strong like you Sirius. I'm not a fighter. Besides, I do believe in some of what the Dark Lord is preaching."

Sirius cringed at the name, "You believe in killing and raping and torture Reg? Cause that's what they do."

"No, but I do believe in the superiority of blood."

"That's it?" Sirius cried, outraged at his little brother and at his mother (mostly at his mother), "There is more to it than that! What will you do if they make you kill, rape, or torture?"

Regulus smirked, "Come on Sirius, that's not my style. You know that."

"And if they force you to." Sirius looked out on the lake. "I don't want you to die, Reg."

"Neither do I. And I don't want you to die either. I want you to join with me. You'll be safer by far than if you stayed with your muggle loving friends. You'll be back with the family; we could even put your picture back on the tree."

Sirius looked at his brother, at the inexperienced youthful hope in his eyes and turned away, "You know I won't."

"I had to try," came the defeated reply that made Sirius somehow realize that this might be the last conversation he had with his brother.

"I know…." After a moment Sirius asked, "Run away Reg?"

"I cannot."

"Why not? I did! You've got to choose, Reg. You don't have to please anyone except yourself. It's your right and your freedom to say no! Turn against the family; they are a rotten bunch as it is."

"Bella joined."

"Andromeda ran away—married a muggle born." Silence passed between the two. "Nevertheless, I always expected dear Bella to join. What about _her _little sister? Cissa? Did she join?"

"Not yet, but mother says it's just a matter of time. It's a righteous cause."

Sirius looked at his brother, trying to find any type of resistance and was again overcome by hatred toward his mother. "What do you want me to do Reg? I am telling you, don't join. They will kill you. If not physically, then mentally. If they make you kill someone, Reg, if they make you torture someone, will you be able to live? Knowing that you're not fighting for a cause that you are fighting for someone else's?"

"I believe in that cause too."

"You believe in it that much?"

"Maybe," Regulus stated defiantly.

"You're sixteen, Reg," Sirius said, waving off Regulus's statement, "you don't know what you believe in yet."

"Sirius, how can you say that when you moved out when _you_ were sixteen? You seemed to have pretty solid beliefs then!"

Regulus had Sirius at that point; but how could Sirius explain to Regulus that Sirius knew, in his heart, that he was choosing the right side. That good always triumphed over evil and in this case, Sirius's side was good—Regulus's side was evil.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want your support."

"You won't get it."

"Well, then, there is nothing left to discuss." With that Regulus stood up and stuck out his hand, "Goodbye Sirius."

Sirius stood too and with surprising strength, he took the offered hand and pulled his little brother into a hug. Damn all who saw, it didn't matter.

"Please consider it Reg. Come with me, move in with me, that's the support I can offer you. Choose me, not them."

"They're my family Si." Regulus stated, finally using Sirius's nickname.

"They might be, but the death eaters are not. Voldermort is not. I am. Please consider it."

Regulus left the embrace and nodded, turned and walked back to the castle.

Sirius watched him leave, sat down and starred at the lake. Thinking about what his brother's choice would be, and knowing he was not going to resist. Sudden anger flared in Sirius. Anger at himself, at his family, at Voldemort, at the world he lived in. He thought randomly that he should have tied his brother down, forced him into hiding, done anything he could to stop him. …Maybe that's what Regulus wanted too, maybe that's why he came to speak to him to begin with…

By the time Sirius turned, he saw Regulus standing with Severaus Snape by the entrance doors. Snape, with his slimy hair and smarmy smirk waved two fingers at Sirius before he led Regulus inside.

One thought passed through Sirius's mind, "I have to get Snape back for this." Because, in all honesty (at least according to Sirius in that moment), Snape was the one who killed his brother.

* * *

Please, Please, Please! Read and Review! Thanks! : )


	2. Back to Grimmauld Place

Sorry for the double notification on this chap, but I hope you like it. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet...the bit with Regulus is a little iffy to me, but overall I think it gives the images I wanted it to. I'll stop talking about it and just let you decide. I hope you like it!

* * *

It had been years since Sirius had been home. He vowed when he left to never step foot in Grimmauld Place again; and why would he, he had a great life crashing at James's every summer till his Uncle Alphy died and he found a flat of his own. But then, not too long after that, James had died and Sirius had been thrown into Azkaban until he could make his escape. It was like leaving his mother's house again, the taste of freedom was beautiful and infectious and it gave him the idea that he could do anything.

Now, he was back. And even though it was better than being in Azkaban, and his mother was gone, he still felt dread entering the doors. Still, Grimmauld Place wasn't going to be that bad, at least, that's what Sirius kept telling himself. Perhaps if he kept his mind focused on one thing then he would make it out of here alive too—that is what kept him sane is Azkaban after all.

Sirius walked past the troll's leg umbrella holder toward the staircase. If anywhere is this house was the best place to start, it would be his own room. At least he would be able to see if his permanent sticking charms held all of his posters and banners to his wall. He smirked remembering the look on his mother's face when she walked into his room to find it practically painted crimson and gold with muggle posters of half naked women hanging on it. He even chuckled on the landing, turning left to the next staircase.

"Whose there?"

Sirius froze, one hand on the banister, holding his breath, he turned to his right. There, right before him, was a portrait of his mother. How he could have missed it, he didn't know. She opened her eyes.

"Who are you?" She demanded, "Kreacher! Kreacher! Intruder! Intruder!" Her shrieks pierced Sirius's ears. It had been so long since he had heard his mother yell like that.

Kreacher cracked out of thin air, standing next to the portrait, hands held out as if they were the most lethal of all weapons.

"Capture him! Capture him! Call the aurors!"

Kreacher snapped two fingers but nothing happened. He tried again, but still, nothing happened. He finally gave up and looked as if he was about to tackled Sirius.

Sirius had to stop this, before it got out of hand. "Kreacher, I am Sirius Black, last heir to the Black family tree and the one and true owner of this house and you! Stop this immediately."

"Lies!" his mother screeched, "All lies!"

Sirius would have sneered at her if he didn't have a crazy house elf on his hands. "You know it's true, Kreacher, or you would have been able to use your powers on me." Kreacher paused. "I command you to," Said Sirius, thinking about what he should have this wretched house elf do but settled for the most innocent of things (after all, he didn't have a wand and would probably need the magic), "open every door of this house."

With a snap of Kreacher's fingers there were snaps, clicks, and dings all over the house.

"NO!" yelled the portrait, "NO! FILTHY MUDBLOOD LOVING TRAITER! LEAVE MY HOUSE! I DO NOT WANT YOU HERE! LEAVE! FILFTHY BOY, YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE!"

"I wish," Sirius muttered as he continued up the stairs.

He knew the order needed this house as headquarters, and even though he offered this place to Dumbledore personally, part of him wished Dumbledore had picked a place, any other place, that was not connected with is family. Although, it was sort of a poetic situation, the fact that this evil house was being used for the purposes of good, it still didn't help the fact that Sirius was stuck here again. Maybe he would sneak out on Dumbledore like he snuck out on his mother.

Slowly, Sirius reached the guest bedroom on the second floor. The room was exactly how remembered it, besides the layers of dust covering every surface that is. The bed was still draped in luxurious fabrics, the window still covered in curtains that reached from the ceiling to the floor, the mantle was still covered in expensive goblin made metals.

He walked over to that mantel and stared at the blank portrait on the wall—it's occupant seemingly absent.

"Phineas? Phineas Nigellus, are you there?"

"Where else would I be?" came the dry reply.

Sirius sighed in frustration, "Can you just tell Dumbledore I'm here and everything seems to be in order."

There came no response but he knew that Phineas would relay the message. As Sirius left the room he thought randomly that if Phineas were alive today, they would probably be good friends: Both going against the family and helping Dumbledore, both sarcastic and volatile, both with firm beliefs and a love of Hogwarts. He shook his head, it was no use hoping for family he liked anymore.

Sirius made his way to the third floor where his room was located, walking right past Regulus's "DO NOT ENTER" sign that he had scoffed at terribly when they both shared this landing. He stood outside his own door, reading his own "SIRIUS" sign, breathing deeply. This was it, this was his childhood.

The door creaked as he opened it. Like everything else in his house, he supposed the doors needed a bit of elbow grease. He was amazed the gas lighting worked to begin with.

His room was exactly as he remembered it. A long silver chandelier hung from his ceiling, covered in the remnants of his last candles, pictures hung everywhere—covering the silver walls his mother so expertly chose to match the chandelier. His bed stood across from him, looking entirely too comfortable to resist. He walked over to it and flopped down onto it causing a dust cloud to encircle him.

"Augh!" he cried, standing, waving his hands like mad while coughing. "Kreacher!" he yelled.

A crack announced the presence of the house elf, "Clean this room up." Sirius demanded, walking toward the door.

"Mistress told Kreacher to never enter this room. It belongs to no son of hers. He is not to be trusted, the blood traitor who left his house. The Gryffindor…"

"Do it silently Kreacher!" Sirius spat, growing tired already of the house elf's gnawing voice.

Sirius was just going to leave the room when he stepped on a piece of paper. He could say this for the room, it may have been dusty but it was not messy. He knelt down to pick up the parchment envelope with his name across the front.

Intrigued he flipped it over, opened the seal, and began to read:

_1980_

_Sirius,_

_I know that by the time you get this, if you ever do get it, it will be because no one else is the family is alive. And although the thought truly saddens me, I cannot imagine you coming home for any other reason. Personally, Sirius, I know I will not be living much longer. _

_You see, while you went to work for the Order, I was taken into the deeper ranks of the Death Eaters, going on my good Black name and a need to prove you wrong, I think I got in to deep. I know you may be thinking this is too honest for me but I have come to believe that you were right Sirius: the Dark Lord is exactly what his name suggests him to be. _

_I am not a coward Sirius, I know that by standing by Voldemort I am doing nothing but helping a sick demented man kill more people, rape more women, and create countless orphans. I just wanted you to know that I eventually went to your side. _

_Know, Sirius, that it is not cowardice that got me killed, it is an intense passion to bring down the Dark Lord. He has been planning things Sirius, things no normal person would ever even consider. I have taken it as my personal mission to stop him. To make him human again in the hopes that one day someone, maybe even you, can take him to his grave._

_I'm sorry for everything that's happened Sirius, for what our world has come to and for helping propagate it._

_Your Brother,_

_Regulus_

_P.S. Be nice to Kreacher, he goes through more than he deserves to._

Of all the things he had expected to find when he came home, this had not been one of them. Sirius read the letter again, tracing his finger over his brother's large elaborate signature. He had laughed the first time he had seen Regulus sign his name this way, he thought it was entirely too cocky for his little brother. Now he saw it as regal and sophisticated, something befitting a Black.

Sirius knew for many years that his brother had died while he was a Death Eater, he just didn't know how, why or when. Now, here finally, were all of his answers. Sirius thought often of his last conversation with is brother on the lake front. He had a lot of time in Azkaban to go over his entire childhood, but the day at the lakeside, when Regulus admitted his intention of becoming a Death Eater and Snape leading him away was played in his head almost as often as realizing Peter was the traitor or those two dark days when James and he were so suspicious of Remus they tailed him everywhere he went and even considered not joining him at his transformation.

Eventually Sirius put the letter down, tucked it away inside a drawer on the left side of his desk on top of another letter with a picture of a boy riding a broomstick. This is the drawer he kept all his letters in, where the timeline of his life was, where the timeline of his brother's life is now. He left Kreacher to his cleaning, slamming the door behind him.

Pushing his dark thoughts away, thoughts he had already had too much of in Azkaban, he went downstairs. Dumbledore would be at Grimmauld Place soon, they needed to perform a Fidelius Charm and Sirius needed to get ready.

* * *

Anyway, that's it for this story, please review! It's just a small little click away, just a little feedback, ok? Thanks : )


End file.
